Hawk walked in from the deck.

“She’s a mouthy one, yeah.” Bull smiled.

Hawk had remote blue-gray eyes in a scarred face. Thick blond hair was yanked back in a tie. His beard was short. Full sleeves of tats and more scars decorated his arms. This fair-skinned brother certainly didn’t resemble Bull or Caz. Neither did Gabe.

“It’s good to officially meet you, Hawk.”

He gave her a quick assessing look, nodded approval at the dressing on her arm, then handed over her car keys. “It’s in Bull’s driveway.”

“Thank you. I really, really appreciate it.” She caught a half-smile on his face before he glanced at Bull and jerked his head toward the deck.

Bull rose and followed him for a talk outside.

When he returned, Frankie asked, “What was that Hawk called me when he came in?”

Bull flashed a smile. “Ah, he’s a bit sparse on words. He shortened New Yorker to yorkie.” Plucking the keys from her hand, Bull tossed them into a coffee table basket that held his wallet and keys.

“Yorkie? Like the fluffy dogs that bark all the time?” Yappy dogs. Her eyes narrowed as she glanced toward the door.

“Mmmhmm, soft, fluffy dogs with big dark eyes. Known for being bold and brave despite their size.” His fingers danced over her hair, fluffing it.

She looked up to object, and he took her mouth, kissing her so gently, so carefully, so…thoroughly, that she melted back into the couch.

Ooooh, such a kiss, even better than the one she’d gotten on the trail.

Even as she lifted her hand, intending to pull him closer, he straightened with a reluctant sigh. “Sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to take advantage.”

“You didn’t.” She gave him a wry smile. “I think you know that.” Because she wanted him as much or more than he wanted her—and he was too astute to misread the signs. Even now, the feeling of his arm against hers was making goosebumps rise on her skin. He’d taken a shower and each breath brought her the crisp, clean scent of his soap.

She’d always been attracted to him, but this almost dying stuff? Somehow, all she wanted right now was to have him take her. Hard. Pound away and let her know that she’d survived. The need was almost primal.

Biology was a bitch, wasn’t it?

“Nonetheless.” He shook his head. “Hang out for a while. Read a book; take a nap. You’re safe here—and you can relax.”

“But I can’t just intrude on your evening and—”

“Sure, you can.” He smiled easily. “All I’d be doing tonight is paperwork anyway. I’ll be at the dining room table.”

“Oh.” Despite the smile, his expression was uncompromising. She might as well give in. “Well. Thank you.”

“Very good answer.” He pulled a golden Sherpa-lined fleece blanket off the back of the sectional. The feeling of his hands tucking it around her, being so very gentle, sent another frisson of desire over her skin.